Harry’s eyes lit up at that prospect. Maybe I could just let those dudes and dudettes hang out in the world in between a little longer. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a vacation. Imagine where I could go with a treasure in my possession! Yeah, Harry, you need some down time—No, Harry. Focus. You gotta get those people out. Keep your eye on the prize.
“If you double-cross me, Harry the scavenger, I will not hesitate to kill you and the ones you love. Do you understand me?”
Harry bowed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Good. There is something you need to know.”
“What? This mission is risky, death is imminent, all that stuff? Yada-yada-yada.”
“A powerful wizard seeks the Jewel as well.”
“Who? Rhazdon?” Harry chuckled. “Gandalf? No, wait—that’s not an Oriceran wizard. That’s Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. You ever seen those movies? Big hits on Earth. Wait a second, was Rhazdon even technically a wizard?”
“None of those,” the Widow responded. “His name is Ignatius Mangood.”
The color drained from Harry’s face. “Ignatius Mangood.”
“Yes, do you know of him?”
“Do I?” Harry brought a shaky hand up to swipe fresh droplets of sweat from his forehead. He knew the legend of Ignatius Mangood all too well. That was one wizard whose bad side he didn’t want to be on.
That changed things.
Harry never thought of himself as either good or bad; more like he was in the middle, amidst a grayer area. He did what he had to do to survive and, on more than one occasion, thrive. A wizard like Ignatius Mangood wouldn’t understand that—he would see Harry as a villain. Legend stated that Ignatius wasn’t too fond of villains. Not to mention that Harry was technically working for Ignatius’s biggest villain—the Widow.
“He will stop at nothing to retrieve the Jewel,” the Widow said. “The chances of death are high.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Harry said, offering a fake smile. “But I work better when the chances of death are high.”
“That’s why I sought you out,” the Widow said. Her voice was steady. It was the closest thing she could give to a compliment.
Harry thanked her, but she didn’t acknowledge it.
“Do you accept the mission? Will you lead my soldiers and bring back the Jewel of Deception?” she asked.
Harry cocked his head. “Do I really have much of a choice?”
He didn’t wait for an answer; he already knew it. He was in the Widow’s domain. If she wished to rip his head off and drink his blood like one of those Kool-Aid Jammers Harry was so fond of back on Earth, there was nothing stopping her.
“I accept. When do we start?”
The fangs revealed themselves again. This time, Harry caught a stench drifting from the Widow’s mouth. He shuddered at both the image and the scent. Quickly, he realized this was the Widow’s way of smiling—just as quickly, he realized he liked her much better when she didn’t try to smile.
“Immediately,” she answered.
“Immediately? I think we need to plan it out a little first—”
“No time,” the Widow interrupted. “I fear Ignatius is making his way to the burial site of the Jewel of Deception as we speak.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
Images of the great wizard flashed inside of Harry’s head. The bluish magic that Ignatius Mangood could conjure like lightning, roasting Harry alive.
“Immediately,” the Widow repeated, her voice stern, unflinching.
“Okay, I understand. I work better under pressure, like I said, but I want to see this treasure before I set out. I think you owe me that much.”
The fangs came out again, and her great pincers clacked together, this time in a snarl.
“You will go right now,” the Widow roared. Her voice shook the great chamber. Hot breath blew noxiously toward Harry, and he nearly passed out.
“All right, I guess we’ll go now.” Harry started to back out of the chamber. He sensed a crazy rage about to burst forth from the giant spider, and he would rather deal with Ignatius Mangood’s magic than whatever the Widow was gonna do.
Once Harry backed out of the cavern and made it into the shadows, he did what many others who had survived a meeting with the Widow did: he ran for his life. When he came out in the Dark Forest, he stumbled and nearly fell over. He caught himself at the last moment, making it seem like he had done it on purpose.
The Arachnid guards who had stayed by the tangled entrance laughed, throwing their heads back.
“Scared ya, did she?” one said.
“Not even the slightest,” Harry answered. Dusting himself off, he stood up straighter. “Get ready, boys. I’m leading you to the promised land.”
“We’ll see who leads,” one of the guards said with a snarl on his face.
Harry walked closer to the Arachnid, trying not to let the fear show—and boy, was he scared. He stared into the eight red eyes and said, “Yeah, buddy, that’ll be me. Now round up your troops; we have a jewel to steal.”
They stared blankly back at Harry.
“Now!” Harry shouted.
The Arachnids jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice and gave way. Soon, Harry was the only one left in the small clearing in front of the opening to the Widow’s lair.
He had a smile on his face and big ambitions on his mind. Finding treasure. Getting those lost in the world in between out. Being a hero. And most of all: surviving.
Chapter Six
The clearing where Ignatius had buried his daughter all those years ago was almost exactly the same. Trees towered above him, and the sun was shining through their leaves. The only difference between then and now was that tall grass now covered Zimmy Ba’s final resting spot.
Ignatius found that he couldn’t move. Behind him, Salem put a stern hand on his shoulder.
“You okay, old friend?” he asked.
Ignatius didn’t answer immediately. The truth was that he was not okay. In his head, the images of the past played out in grisly, technicolor detail. He
